


Lost (In the Blue)

by meimie



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alpha!Chanyeol, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Byun Baekhyun-centric, Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Human!Baekhyun, Knotting, M/M, Model!Chanyeol, Romance, Scent Marking, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, artist!baekhyun, cause he’s precious. precious bean!baekhyun btw, they just want the best for their boy, wolf!Chanyeol, xiuchen are baekhyun’s asshole friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 11:06:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17866106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meimie/pseuds/meimie
Summary: Baekhyun never thought he’d find his muse in front of another artist’s lens.(In which Jongdae becomes a matchmaker without even trying.)





	Lost (In the Blue)

**Author's Note:**

> i’m a sucker for human x non-human fics, and i really wanna try my hand at it. i can’t promise frequent updates, but i do promise to finish this. one way or another. i’m not just saying that because i need pressure to do anything in life, absolutely not. that being said, feel free to yell at me in the comments about updating (or anything please), it really helps.
> 
> happy birthday to this abomination! (人◕ω◕)
> 
>  
> 
> (crossposted on AFF)

**A thought is a hard thing to control. _  
_** — Girl Interrupted (1999), Di. James Mangold

 

 

Autumn. ;   
  
  
The season of hot drinks, cozy sweaters and rosy cheeks — oh, how people loved it. Dusty yellows painted the parchment, bookstores bustled with teenagers, most of them decked out from head to toe in rich, earthy tones. Outside they were met with shining ochres, burned amber, and a sensation similar to bed bugs being crushed beneath their toes as a single leaf shattered into a million pieces.  
  
  
Too much.  
_  
  
__“I hate it.”_ he vaguely remembered telling his mother one September night many, many moons ago. _“I hate it... so much.”    
  
  
_Too much soft brutality.  
_  
  
__“But why, Baekhyunnie?”_ she had spoken, tone soft. _“The weather, the colors. All the festivities. Autumn is wonderful,”  
  
  
__“What’s so wonderful about romanticizing death?”  
  
  
_She went quiet after that, and Baekhyun couldn’t help but sigh as he strolled through the streets of Seoul. Seven years have passed since then, and even though he was no longer fourteen, his mindset didn’t change all that much. Baekhyun was still childish, still got upset too easily, and he still didn’t like autumn.    
  
  
Maybe he was too sensitive.   
  
  
Maybe he was too soft.   
  
  
Awareness alone didn’t change the fact that he cringed every time he saw a couple smiling at a crying tree though — only to then stomp all over its colorful tears.   
  
  
Awareness alone didn’t change anything.   
  
  
In autumn, everything was dying.

 

 

 

 

 

 

────── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Ah, there you a— Baekhyun?”   
  
  
“Oh god, he’s sulking again.”   
  
  
A groan. “Why? Why _now?_ ”   
  
  
“Should we get someone else?”   
  
  
“No! It has to be him!”   
  
  
Baekhyun listened to them argue as if he wasn’t there, leaning against the doorframe of Jongdae’s studio apartment with a downturned expression. He couldn’t help it; the seasonal sadness. It came and went in waves, and he just so happened to still be dealing with the aftermath of a tsunami.   
  
  
“Listen,” Jongdae suddenly spoke up, rubbing his temples. “I’m sorry, but I really need you to do this for me. I need you to do this _well_. Okay?”   
  
  
His voice was harsh, harsher than usual, but Baekhyun knew it was just the nerves talking. Jongdae was a photography major, top of his class, and the pressure from both his status and his family had been hard on him. Baekhyun would know, seeing as he was one of the few people (besides Minseok) who stood by him during each of the twenty-one mental breakdowns he went through trying to figure out what to do for his upcoming final. The theme, as he revealed to them, would be **Black and White** , and apparently, Jongdae was _not_ a fan.   
  
  
Usually, the ideas came to him like ants rushing toward the drip of a mango, but since he didn’t like the theme, he struggled. He struggled a lot.   
  
  
Or at least he did until about 2 a.m last night when out of the blue, he called Baekhyun up, sounding delighted and babbling about a ‘vision’, _blah blah blah —_ Baekhyun could wholeheartedly admit he did not care and just hurried through his obligatory I’m-so-happy-for-you speech (which he was, really, but it was 2 a.m for fuck’s sake), about to fall back asleep on the line. Right then, Jongdae said something strange.   
  
  
And for the first time, Baekhyun perked up.  
  
  
“So yeah, I need you to be here by 6 p.m tomorrow.”   
  
  
_What?_    
  
  
“Seriously, thank you so much. Just... none of my models fit the picture in my head, you know? You’ll be perfect for this, I just know it!”   
  
  
_What??  
  
  
_“I’ll see you tomorrow then! Sleep well, Baekkie~”   
  
  
_What???    
  
  
_Baekhyun stared at the phone for about half a minute before his roommate let out a long groan, pulling him out of his reverie. That’s when Baekhyun realized he must have accidentally agreed to _something_ because, truth be told, he didn’t get any-fucking-thing out of that initial cluster of words and excitement. He probably just hummed at the wrong time, and Jongdae took that as god’s word.  
  
  
Even now as he stood in front of him, the man himself, Baekhyun was clueless.   
  
  
“I’ll do my best.”   
  
  
He tried a smile, but it felt wrong. Noticing that, Minseok—caring and perceptive as he was—pulled him to the side, one palm immediately coming up to rest at the small of Baekhyun’s back.   
  
  
“Are you okay?” he asked gently, toying with a strand of hair that’s sticking out weirdly at the top of the slightly taller male’s head. “You know Jongdae won’t be angry if you decide you don’t wanna do this, right?” He briefly turned to his frantic boyfriend on the other side of the room before he continued, “The deadline is next week. There’s still enough time, he’ll figure something out.”   
  
  
The air between them felt unusually cold, even with Minseok’s concerned-parent-look, and Baekhyun would be lying if he said he didn’t want to be in his room instead, cuddling his ice bear plushie and serenading a tub of chocolate cookie ice-cream, but—  
  
  
“I mean, I’m already here, so...” he mumbled, pointedly ignoring the question and letting his words simmer into thin air. “Speaking of, why _am_ I here?”   
  
  
He’d probably have to pose for something; Baekhyun knew that much. However, that’s just curtesy of the logical side of his brain, and on his way, he realized that having the facts straight wouldn’t be too bad of a convenience.  
  
  
Minseok gave him a weird look but eventually broke out into a smile, “To look cute, basically. But let’s wait until your partner arrives, Jongdae is going to explain everything then.”   
  
  
“Pa... Partner?”   
  
  
“Yeah,” The man’s grin widened, and just as he was about to open his mouth again, a knock cut him off.Gasping, Baekhyun found himself holding his breath as he turned around, watching Jongdae spring out of a pile of equipment, hit his head on a light projector and trip over cables, until finally, _finally_ , he managed to get the door.   
  
  
_“Fucking idiot._ ” Baekhyun could vaguely make the words out from next to him, but his attention was already somewhere else.   
  
  
Or rather, on someone else.   
  
  
“Hey, Chanyeol,” He noticed the brilliant smile on Jongdae’s face, legs shaking as if he had to stop himself from jumping up and down in excitement, “I’m so, so, so, so, _so_ happy you could make it, wow, seriously, thanks man—”  
  
  
“Yeah, whatever.”   
  
  
“Speaking of the devil...” Minseok breathed mysteriously, leaning in to whisper into Baekhyun’s ear. “Better be careful, little one.”  
  
  
“What?” Eyes narrowing, Baekhyun finally turned away from the stranger. His fingers were tapping odd patters into his thigh now, revealing his unease to anyone who dared to look close enough.   
  
  
That _Chanyeol_ guy was wearing the baggiest sweatpants, a giant hoodie (that Baekhyun would probably drown in), and a cap pulled down to hide his face. There was no telling whether or not he was something worth looking at yet, since there simply wasn’t a lot to look at in general. His facial features were covered, his figure disguised by heavy clothing — all Baekhyun could say in certain was that the guy was tall. Big. Freakishly so.  
  
  
Laughing at his expression, Minseok started pulling his perplexed friend into the direction of the two other people, “Let’s get you two introduced, shall we?”   
  
  
“Sure...” _Ugh.  
  
  
_The prospect of having to do something _new_ was already distressing enough for Baekhyun in his depressed state. Adding another person, _a stranger_ , to the picture not only didn’t help, it made it worse _._ So much worse.The closer they got, the clammier his hands became, and by the time Baekhyun was standing in front of Jongdae and the newcomer, he actually wanted to cry.   
  
  
And Baekhyun had _never_ been a cryer.   
  
  
“... Hey?” he muttered timidly, more aware of his own height than ever before.  
  
  
Chanyeol’s face was still mostly hidden as he stared down at his phone, only revealing little bits and pieces of flaming red hair sticking out in the form of clean cut sideburns. He didn’t acknowledge him at all, and when he finally looked up, it wasn’t even in his direction.   
  
  
“Okay alright great, so, Chanyeol, that’s Baekhyun, Baekhyun, that’s Chanyeol. Follow me, ladies—” Jongdae was wildly gesturing between the two of them, obviously intent on cutting the small talk short now that he finally had his subjects exactly where he wanted them. His efforts, however, were put down right away when Minseok fixed a firm grip on his elbow, glaring at his overeager boyfriend with both fondness and reprimand gleaming behind his eyelids. Stern, yet _so_ soft.  
  
  
Like a beaten puppy, Jongdae pouted in his direction as a pathetic cry for assistance, but Baekhyun didn’t even notice. He didn’t notice anything apart from the sudden rush of blood streaming past his ears, or the trembling of his digits, still drumming mindless rhythms into his leg,  
  
  
_All he saw were—  
  
  
_“Your... eyes.”  
  
  
And the room fell silent.   
  
  
“What’s wrong with your eyes?” he tried again, staring up into the stranger’s face with an expression akin to intrigue, intimidation, and something else he couldn’t quite decipher yet.  
  
  
“My eyes?”   
  
  
Chanyeol’s voice was—expectedly—low when he responded, laced with unimpressed coldness. The most Baekhyun could discern from his tone, and his features, was the lack of anything remotely emotional.   
  
  
Yet, he felt compelled.   
  
  
His creative core, fueled by the art major within him, wanted so desperately for Baekhyun to map that face out, to memorize the lines and the dents, and treasure them until the day he died, because _fuck —_ he felt inspired. For the first time this season, truly, and genuinely.   
  
  
_Moved_.   
  
  
“That one...” he croaked out, clearing his throat in order to conceal the tremors coursing through his veins. After a moment, he pointed up with one finger, unwilling and unable to avert his gaze. Baekhyun stared, and he could not stop, “Is it... real?”   
  
  
A wave of anxiety washed over him then as he withered under Chanyeol’s hardening gaze, at the center of his attention, but there was no way in hell he could look away now. Not now, and not in a hundred years.   
  
  
“Yeah,” Chanyeol deadpanned, “it’s real.”   
  
  
The words were spoken with a sense of finality, shutting Baekhyun up in an instant. He obviously didn’t want any more questions, no more prodding; so, despite himself, Baekhyun decided to comply. The silence gave him a chance to follow his urges for a second (or so he thought), lips pressed into a thin line as he shamelessly ogled Chanyeol. Immediately, Baekhyun noticed how attractive the man was, from his strong eyebrows all the way down to his long legs. His lips and those large, _large_ hands, covered by myriads of thick, healthy veins. His high nose bridge would be ridiculously easy to replicate onto a piece of paper, he mused.   
  
  
However, Baekhyun had never been one for shallow artistry — which is exactly why nobody’s been able to shake his heart for so long. And even now, he still didn’t believe it was _Chanyeol_ who did it. It was merely a part of him. The part that was supposed to stand in two, and yet seemed completely unrelated.   
  
  
_His eyes.    
  
  
_Never before had Baekhyun seen such unique play of color. Grays and blues callously looked back at him, icy like the arctic ocean he attempted to paint far back during his freshman year. But unlike Baekhyun’s mediocre painting, this artwork moved as if asking for _life_ , shades swirling and mixing to create a sight that truly left you wondering.   
  
  
Yes, Chanyeol looked unusual. But not because he had blue eyes.   
  
  
He looked unusual, strange, different, because he had _one_ blue eye. Only one. His left half was completely ordinary with its dark hues that looked right out of Minseok’s many coffee cups; deep, and rich, and _brown_. A stark contrast to the pale blues. The specks of green.It didn’t look right at all.   
  
  
_His fingers were itching_.   
  
  
“Okay. This is a little awkward,”   
  
  
Baekhyun didn’t know how much time had passed when Jongdae finally cut the silence, hands coming up to clutch both his and Chanyeol’s sleeves.   
  
  
“But! Surprise! I don’t care,” With that, he didn’t let even one more second go to waste, pulling his pliant models across the room to where he set up his ‘scene’.   
  
  
“Jongdae—”  
  
  
“ _Now_ ,” Clearing his throat, Jongdae eyed the two with something close to madness in his gaze, (somehow, Baekhyun could relate), clapping his palms two times in the air before hollering, “Slave! Bring me my paint!”   
  
  
A long sigh could be heard from the other side of the room before Minseok approached them, two huge pots in his hands and silent curses falling from his lips. He only looked a little annoyed when he finally took his place besides his (out of control) partner.  
  
  
“Uh,”   
  
  
Pursing his lips, Baekhyun stared at his two friends. He felt a little lightheaded for some reason. “What are these for?”   
  
  
“These, my dear friend,” Jongdae paused, crouching down to pop the mysterious containers open. The insides revealed gallons of white and black liquid, reflecting shapes into the man’s glittering eyes, “are going to make my vision come to life.”   
  
  
“And what exactly is your vision?” Chanyeol chimed in as well, sending thrills up Baekhyun’s spine when he turned to look at him. His voice was really just as cold as his, albeit beautiful, eyes.   
  
  
Jongdae stood up abruptly at that, an uncharacteristic smirk on his face.   
  
  
“Innocence, and...” His gaze was pointed at Baekhyun, before it wandered up to his left. Chanyeol raised a brow when Jongdae spoke his next words which were obviously directed at him,“Corruption.”  
  
  
**Innocence and corruption.  
  
  
**Baekhyun blinked, the implications only slowly registering in his mind, “... What the fuck—”  
  
  
“You two have to undress. Right now.”   
  
  
“Allow me to repeat. _What the fuck?_ ”   
  
  
“Hurry, hurry, Baekhyunnie~” Jongdae ordered absentmindedly, adjusting the settings on his camera.  
  
  
“But why do we have to, _oh my god—_ ”   
  
  
“For the art, you uncultured sw— oh. Yeah, wow.”   
  
  
Both students stopped their back and forth abruptly in order to gape at Chanyeol who just soundlessly stripped out of his hoodie beside them. His fingers looked way too long when he let them slip past the waistband of his sweatpants next, allowing the soft fabric to drop to the floor without as much as a word.  
  
  
“... Damn.” Someone whispered.   
  
  
Chanyeol still looked unbothered as he stood there in only his underwear, a pair of tight boxer briefs, and his body on full display. Baekhyun briefly wondered if his friends knew this; how shameless the guy was, or how his body looked straight out of a dumbbell commercial. That he had tattoos starting all the way up north at his collarbones, leading down his arms and his front, stopping only at the very edge of his ankles. He wondered if they would have told him. _Warned him_.   
  
  
Probably not.  
  
  
“What about my underwear?”   
  
  
“You can keep ‘em on.” Jongdae looked pleased, eyeing the trails of ink with guarded appreciation in his gaze. “ _Baekhyun_!”   
  
  
“Do I really _have_ to—”  
  
  
“ _Yes_.”   
  
  
“Ugh,” Groaning in reluctance, Baekhyun timidly began to pull his own sweater over the crown of his head. He was certain — had Jongdae been of any less importance to him, he wouldn’t have allowed himself to sink this low. He would have bolted right out of there.  
  
  
Damn him for loving, and wanting to please his childhood friend. _Damn him_.   
  
  
“What now?” Baekhyun grumbled into his shoulder, hands crossed in front of his chest.He felt weird and exposed like that, embarrassment creeping up his chest. Right then, Baekhyun couldn’t help but realize how much he detested this feeling, and how tired he was. How worn the days have left him. He didn’t want anyone to look at him.  
  
  
And strangely enough, no one did.   
  
  
Minseok stared at his phone, and Jongdae was busy lathering Chanyeol’s palms in black paint, creating intricate patterns that followed his wrists, gyrating around his bones. The left one, then the right, a little fine tuning here and there, and his face lit up. Jongdae always got excited too easily.  
  
  
He then spun around on his heels, grinning menacingly ( _scary)_. With a small nod, he gave Baekhyun a once over, as if he didn’t already know his body like the back of his hand. Baekhyun thought it was both ridiculous and unnecessary.  
  
  
“Our sweet, innocent angel...” The photographer mused, angling his head in thought before pulling Chanyeol into the picture. He eyed the two and smiled, “You two look wonderful together. I love the contrast.”   
  
  
Baekhyun rolled his eyes but risked a glance at Chanyeol anyway.   
  
  
The taller’s right profile greeted him, and it might have just been his imagination, but somehow, his cold eye looked just a tad less cold (?) A small smile was even playing on his lips, and Baekhyun could only wonder quietly as he watched it grow at Jongdae’s next order.  
  
  
“Chanyeol, can you put your hands around his neck?”   
  
  
“Sure.”   
  
  
_???    
  
  
_“What—” Gasping, a wince escaped Baekhyun when cold hands touched his skin, pulse thumping against paint and broad palms. His eyes went wide as he stared up at Chanyeol who caught his gaze effortlessly, unrelenting, even when Baekhyun’s hands came up to grip his forearms.  
  
  
“Now slide them down his chest, _yes, exactly_ ,” Nodding enthusiastically, Jongdae looked between the two of them with awe etched into his features. “Just go wild now, make it look real messy,  
  
  
I want him _ruined_.”  
  
  
Once again, Baekhyun was gaping, and he didn’t even notice that he was still holding onto Chanyeol’s arms before his own travelled down on someone else’s accord. Chanyeol was strangely obedient with orders, and most definitely thorough as he began his descend on Baekhyun’s body. His fingers eagerly followed his curves, and nothing seemed taboo as he even coated the shorter man’s nipples, and tipped his fingers into his waistband for a second, creating seamless lines and diminishing unpleasant gaps.   
  
  
To say that Baekhyun felt hot would have been an understatement — he felt like his whole body was burning up, and he knew that Chanyeol knew. At one point, he said something along the lines of _You smell good_ , and Baekhyun was just about ready to jump out of the ground-floor apartment.  
  
  
His embarrassment was impossible to conceal; cheeks lighting up, muscles locking in place. His jaw was starting to hurt from excessive clenching.   
  
  
“Are you done soon?” he eventually grumbled out when things got a little too much. (As if they weren’t just that from the very beginning—)  
  
  
Chanyeol nodded, and Baekhyun swore he saw a little smirk on his lips. He didn’t know _why_ it was there though; at first glance, it just looked like Chanyeol dumped him in a mud pit and left him behind to rot. He felt—and surely looked—nothing short of gross, but apparently, he stood alone with his thoughts.   
  
  
Clapping like a seal, Jongdae took him by the shoulders and _shoved_ him in front of a mirror (why), eyes twinkling as he stared back at Baekhyun’s reflection. His face didn’t hide much from his amazement to his relief, the pleasant surprise, and his urge to finally eternalize all of _this_ onto a photograph.   
  
  
And the crazy thing was... Baekhyun could see it too.   
  
  
“That’s...” he blinked, unease spreading across his skin at the image Chanyeol created on his chest, his hips, his neck. He listened too well, Baekhyun realized. Chanyeol actually nailed the concept.  
  
  
“... fucking _perfect_.” Jongdae finished for him.   
  
  
_It was_. Kind of. (God, it was.)  
  
  
A messy trail of obsidian trickled down his lower lip and his chin, his neck; unrecognizable with two large hand prints circling the pale skin. The left side of Baekhyun’s chest (where his heart should be, he realized belatedly) was crossed out, fingers pulling and dragging at the flesh as if trying to tear him open, to climb inside and to never leave.  
  
  
A shiver ran down his spine when his eyes went even lower, and two more, slightly more opaque marks blinked back at him, right at his hips. The rest of Baekhyun’s torso had paint on it too, of course, but everything apart from those three core points seemed... diffused in a way. It looked more _unintentional;_ like hands trailing and skipping. Not once lingering.   
  
  
Chanyeol, in comparison, looked as clean as a fleshly showered cub. All he had were his black knuckles, and his dark palms. His eyes, hot and cold, challenging enough as he motioned for Baekhyun to come closer.   
  
  
The symbolism couldn’t be clearer, and maybe that’s what scared Baekhyun the most.  
  
  
_Jongdae better get a fucking A on this._

**Author's Note:**

> please leave kudos and comments if you like it. ♡


End file.
